The Calling
by ZeldaDragon
Summary: The life of a soldier is hard. Sometimes, though, it's better than the life you've left behind. Much better. Follow one man -- one soldier -- as he finds the meaning of his life through war and hopelessness.
1. Ill Tides

**My first chaptered story for the Matrix genre using all original characters. I'm kinda nervous to see how you all take to it but, unlike a few others I've seen, I've put my heart into this and pushed my writing skills to new levels...so it should be pretty good. I'm about halfway done with the next chapter, so, depending on how well this one goes over with my readers, it should be posted within the month.**

**This was written for a dear friend of mine, Centress (aka Nithke), and the main character is hers, taken with permission from her amazing story _A Mad Mad World_. I have written a short story about him once before, and it will be tied in to this later on...if you've already read that or _Mad _you should have a jump on the others who are just now falling into our little web.**

**_Disclaimer_: I own only the characters -save Jeremy and any you may recognize later- so please do not use them without my written permission. The basis of the plot belongs to the infamous brothers who made the movies to begin with.**

xxxxx

_**The Calling**_

_**Chapter 1: Ill Tides**_

****

"Get your ass outta bed, Jeremy," Miranda snarled, violently kicking the mattress on the floor.

"What it your _problem_?" Jeremy snapped as he pulled a blanket up over his head to obscure his face from the blinding light coming from the window on the other side of the room. "I was up all night...just let me rest in peace!"

"You know, I'm sick of you staying on the computer the whole freakin' night." The young woman grabbed her purse from the rickety chair by the door. "I also hate how you always make those ugly comments about your morbid fascination with death. And while I'm at it," she shot a nasty glare his way, "it bothers me how you mumble in your sleep about Adele. Who's Adele, Jeremy? Your other girlfriend?"

"Andy, wait..." Jeremy stood from his bed and was about to take a step toward her when she left. As she slammed the door, small flakes of orange paint dislodged and fluttered to the floor.

"There goes another one," he muttered, pulling a black shirt over his head. He glanced at the blank screen of the computer, which was by the window. He'd spent all his money on the piece of junk, and it had all been worthless. She was still gone, and he had no idea how to find her even with his hacking skills. How many years had it been since then? Four? Five, six?

_Damn you, Adele,_ he thought. _This is all your fault._

Jeremy sighed and ran a hand through his spiked black hair, messed with sleep. After hitting the power button on the machine he went into the bathroom. Miranda had been cleaning again; the mold had been scrubbed out of the tiles by the sink. When he turn on the water, the faucet sputtered and spat out some brown muddy liquid that didn't look safe enough to give the weeds that had managed to crack through the cement stairs of the dilapidated apartment building. A few seconds later, though, the mud became water. He splashed some on his face, careful not to hit the new piercing in his eyebrow. The third one. _Three...my lucky number._

When he returned to him computer, the little letter in the corner of his Internet screen flashed. He had mail. After further inspection, he found it to be from one of his hacker buddies who had been helping him locate the missing half of his soul, who had disappeared all those years ago.

_Trinity Strikes Again_ the subject read.

Trinity, that kid who had entered their circuit a while ago. So far, he'd only caused trouble. What was he up to now? Jeremy opened the message. It had been copied and pasted from an online tabloid article three years old.

_The now famous hacker known as Trinity finally let his skills be known. Early this morning at exactly 3:03 AM, he broke through the many security barriers of the IRS. Although there were hundreds of files to be looked through, none seemed to be tampered with except for one. The contents of this file are unknown, but many believe it to have contained information on the well sought-after Morpheus. Where will Trinity strike next? But what _I_ really want to know is this: who taught this guy how to manipulate the world?_

Jeremy felt a chill go up his spine. "Well I'll be damned," he mumbled under his breath. He closed the message and leaned back in his chair. Trinity. The name sounded so familiar. Not familiar like Morpheus, but more familiar like he knew him. _Or her,_ his mind nagged.

Quickly making up his mind, he stood from the chair and ran back into the bathroom. After applying a thick layer of black eyeliner around his eyes, he grabbed his long black jacket from the crooked coat hook and ran from the building, not bothering to lock the door behind him.

xxxxx

"Hey, man, it's the Vampire." Logan, more commonly known around the club as Hippo, glanced up from where he was chatting rather loudly over the music with his little group. "A bit early for you to be out, isn't it? That pretty pale skin of yours might burn."

Pinkie, whose real name Jeremy didn't know, chuckled. "How ya doin', Vampie?"

Jeremy scowled. "I told you, I'd rather go by _Ruhk_, if you don't mind." It took a lot of self-control to keep from returning to his old habits and smacking this guy across the face. "Where's Ginger? I need to talk to her."

"Ginge is busy," Hippo said suspiciously. "What's so important that you actually came out during the day?"

"That's none of your business," was the curt reply. "Where is she?"

"With a _client_, if you catch my meaning," Cassandra spoke up from her position by the wall. He hadn't even known she was there, her dark skin blending easily with the shadows. She quirked an eyebrow. "Everything okay there, Ruhk?"

Jeremy sighed. At least one person was being moderately helpful. "No. I just want to talk to Ginger."

"She's in the back, first door on the right." The woman smirked. "Knock first, kiddo."

He nodded in thanks before turning toward the bar. The loud music thundered around him, dancing bodies already crowding the large room even though it was only three o'clock. The bartender hadn't shown up for work yet, so Jeremy easily slipped into the back area of the club, which was supposedly restricted to the crowds.

He stopped outside the door Cassandra had specified, but just as he was about to knock the knob turned and a man stumbled out. He had bright red lipstick smeared on his flushed face, and probably elsewhere. The man didn't even notice who he had almost barreled over as he continued his stumbling way out into the main room.

Jeremy rapped his knuckles on the open door. "Ginger?" he called into the darkness inside.

"Who is that?" an airy voice rasped.

"It's Ruhk," he answered, too wary to take another step. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Well, I was wondering when you'd come to me! Come in, come in!"

Unable to resist then, he went inside and closed the door behind him. His hand brushed across the wall until he found a switch, which he promptly flicked on. Dim light filled the room, bringing the woman in the far corner into focus. She was in her mid-40s, with thick chestnut hair and gold skin. Her face was sunken, as though she hadn't had a good meal in years, and he was sure that more than a few ribs were visible beneath that thin robe she was wearing.

"You have the most potential out of anyone here, you know," Ginger went on, oblivious to his discomfort. "I was starting to get worried that you'd never get up the courage to ask around outside that computer of yours."

Jeremy frowned, feeling his heart pounding in his chest with nervousness. "I don't think I know what you're talking about."

"Oh, yes you do," the older woman countered. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. And I'm sorry to lay it on you like this, but I can't tell you a thing."

He was about to mutter another protest, but she continued. "However, I _can _give you a name."

"A name?" His frown deepened. Subconsciously, his left hand went up to his ear and tugged gently at the little hoop hanging from his earlobe. It was his nervous habit.

"Wraith is what he goes by." Ginger smiled smugly up at him from where she sat among her pillows on the floor. "I've already told him about you, my boy...about your promise. You may not be the best hacker in the world, but you have that feeling, don't you? That feeling that something's wrong in the world?"

She didn't wait for an answer. "Wraith wants to meet you. Tonight. He'll have all the answers you need."

"I'm afraid I'm still confused," Jeremy spoke up, startled at how fast everything had happened. "How did you know what I wanted?"

Ginger sighed and looked away. "I've been watching you for quite some time. I've been watching _many _people. I've been around for much longer than you know." She pierced him with her dark eyes. "I know where she is, Ruhk. Your precious Adele. But believe me when I say that you won't recognize her now. Do you still want to find her?"

"Hell yes."

A faint smile passed over the woman's lips as she picked up a piece of paper from a short table beside her and scribbled something on it with a pen. "I must warn you, though," she paused to make sure he was listening. "Whatever choice you make you can't take back. You'll have to live with it for the rest of your life."

Jeremy nodded, resisting the urge to raise an eyebrow. Ginger extended her arm and he took the paper from her well-manicured fingers. "How do you know all this?" he asked her quietly, not quite able to wrap his mind around all that had just happened.

"I know more than you think, my boy." She sighed. "That address," she gestured toward the paper in his hand, "it's not in a good part of the city. Be careful out there. Lots of people would want to get their hands on that pretty body of yours."

He looked at the floor, not sure of what to say. "Thank you, I guess. For this."

Ginger chuckled. "You'll find her, Ruhk, but I'm not sure if you'll like what you find. She's not the same person she used to be."

The comment was met with silence. After a moment, Jeremy turned to go. Her last words followed him out the door.

"Don't make the same mistake I did. Be daring."

xxxxx

Once he left the club, Jeremy looked at the crumpled paper for the first time.

_908 West 33rd 9:30_

West 33rd. Right. He pursed his lips. That was all the way on the other side of town. Just how was he supposed to get there? It's not like he actually owned a car, or had nearly enough money for a cab. He looked at his watch. 4:17. _I'll walk, then. Plenty of time._

He headed back to his apartment. The trip was short; only three blocks from the club. He quickly mounted the stairs in the lobby and made the climb to his floor, but once he got there he stopped short.

"Shit!"

The door to his apartment was wide open. He rushed inside, only to find that everything he owned had either been stolen or broken. The whole apartment was in complete disarray. Papers were scattered on the floor, lamps and tables overturned. His mattress had been thrown against the wall. And his computer was gone, ripped right from the wall.

He looked around wildly, suddenly realizing that the person who did this might still be there. Though no one was visible, he bent and broke the leg off a nearby chair just in case. He briefly considered calling the police but promptly dismissed the idea. The police didn't really like people like him. They'd probably just scrape together a report and throw it in the trash on their way out. No worth even bothering with them.

Jeremy kicked at an empty tissue box, sending it flying across the room. "This is _crap_!" he yelled to no one. He looked at the paper in his hand again. Wraith, that was the guy's name. "I sure hope he's got answers for me."

In the bathroom he gathered his eyeliner and toothbrush, then switched his black running shoes for the large black string-up boots that had been thrown from his closet to the far wall of his bedroom. He picked up a few bits of clothing, all black as well, and tossed them unceremoniously into a black duffle bag.

As he made his way toward the broken door, he paused at the dilapidated bookshelf and grabbed a well-worn picture of a young woman with dark shoulder-length hair and bright blue eyes. She had been scowling at the camera, not happy about having the shot taken. He stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket.

"Forget this, man." He scanned what had once been his home and left, never wanting to see that place again. Once he reached the street, he began the long walk toward his final destination. If this didn't work out… Well, he'd been contemplating suicide for a while.

He subconsciously rubbed his fingers over the picture in his pocket. _I'll find you, Adele. I will. One way or another._

xxxxx

The sun went down quickly, leaving the city to its nighttime inhabitants. Usually this was the time Jeremy loved the most. But tonight, it felt as though he were slowly approaching his death. He unfolded the paper for the umpteenth time. The closest street sign read West 28th. Almost there.

The building loomed up ominously as he approached. It was made of crumbling red bricks, probably an old manufacturing company. There were few street lamps here, but he could tell that this was the place. A large sign on the side marked it as 908. He glanced at his watch. 9:28.

After a quick look around, he noticed a shiny black car parked on the curb a ways down the street. He spotted a door in the windowless brick wall and made his way toward it. _Here goes_, he thought as he adjusted the bag still hanging from his shoulder and pulled the rusty piece of metal open. It creaked on its hinges.

Almost immediately he was met with the musty smell of mold and old chemicals. The door swung shut behind him, casting the large room into darkness. All around was an eerie silence. Jeremy strained his ears but couldn't hear anything except the faint _drip dripp_ing of an old sewer pipe.

"Hello?" His voice echoed off the walls, making him feel even more alone. "Is anyone here?"

"That depends."

The suddenness of this second voice made him jump. He spun around. "Where are you? _Who_ are you?"

"Who are _you_?" He noticed the lilt in the words, a distinctly feminine sound. From the slight dialect he guessed she was Irish.

"My name is…Ruhk." The name now seemed more normal than the name he had had his entire life.

"We've been expecting you." The sound of boot heels clicking on the cement floor was the only warning before someone reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. He jumped again, the adrenaline coursing through his body. The owner of the hand spoke, and he knew it to be the same person as before. "My name is Banshee. Follow me."

The hand left his shoulder and Jeremy turned to see the back of a tall woman with dark red hair, which had been tied back in a rubber band. She was thin, as could be told easily through the tight black vinyl shirt and short skirt she was wearing. The boots he had heard earlier reached up to her knees, with no zipper or strings to be found.

She paused and looked over her shoulder, her face cast in shadows. He could just tell that she had very pale skin and high cheekbones. "Are you coming?"

Without waiting for an answer, Banshee turned on her heel and continued on her way through the darkness. Jeremy sprinted to catch up with her.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked, trying to come up on her side to see her face. He received no answer.

She led him toward the back of the large room and took his bag, gesturing for him to go down a hallway. "Last door on the left."

"Aren't you coming with me?"

Banshee quirked an eyebrow at the hint of fear in his voice. "You're a big boy, Ruhk," she paused, looking him in the eye. "I've got to prepare for the next step in this long, drawn out process. Not to worry, though. Wraith is perfectly harmless. Most of the time."

Jeremy looked down the hall. He could barely see the door in the gloomy distance. When he glanced back she was gone. His boots made a dull thud with each step, echoing around him as he swallowed back his fear and moved toward his future.

The door, when he could finally make it out, was made of wood, painted black and blending perfectly with the shadows. There was a brass knob, which was cold to the touch. It took all the restraint Jeremy had to keep from jerking his hand away and running from the building. _There is no place to go_, he told himself, _nothing for you to do except die. You have to do this. Open the door._

The door swung open smoothly, revealing a room that looked to be in the same condition as the rest of the building. An old desk, probably filled with termites, sat dejectedly in the far corner. Pieces of furniture were scattered everywhere, only two chairs still intact. But what really attracted his attention was a man, leaning against the wall with long arms folded across his chest.

"It's about time." His voice was thick, but not too deep.

"Sorry…" Jeremy slowly shook his head, still feeling his heart pounding almost painfully in his chest. He studied the man before him. Tall, lanky, dark blonde hair tied back in a short ponytail, dark eyes - probably brown - pale peachy skin, but not as pale as Jeremy's, dressed in dark brown. He looked to be in his late thirties.

"Do you know why you're here?" The man - Wraith - asked.

"I was sent here," Jeremy answered, trying to gather his growing confidence around him. "She told me that you could help."

"Apparently you're not the best hacker in the world, but the way Ginger talks about you…" Wraith shook his head. "I figured I should check you out."

There was a heavy silence before the blonde spoke again. "You feel it, don't you? That nagging pang in your gut that something's wrong. I can tell just by looking at you that you want out."

"What are you saying?" Jeremy took a step forward, his interest spiked.

"I'm saying that yes, I can help you. But that help comes with a large price to pay."

"What do you mean?" The younger man shook his head again. "I don't have any money, if that's what you want. Shit, man, I was just robbed. I don't have _anything_ left."

Wraith snorted. "The only thing I want is you. I just lost one of my best soldiers, and I need a replacement. You seem like the kind of guy I'm looking for."

"Looking for for what, exactly?"

"To help us fight." Their eyes locked. "I can give you a new life, Ruhk. I can't promise you that it will be a life you'll like, but we're all in this together for the same cause. To win the war we've been fighting since before you were born."

"What do I have to do?" Jeremy, now falling into his other self as Ruhk, watched as the other man approached him.

"You have to choose." Wraith gave him a solid glare, his brown eyes glinting. He reached into his pocket and removed a pill case. As he did so, the door behind them opened and another woman, younger than Banshee, entered the room with a glass of water.

"You have to choose," Wrath continued, "between staying here and living out the life you have now, or letting us take you back with us, to a new life of fighting and war."

"War…?" Ruhk blinked. Everything he had heard, everything he had read…it was all true? _Good God_, he thought,_ is this where Adele is? This 'real world?' Does she fight this war?_ His fingers brushed across the picture still in his pocket. It took only a split second for him to decide. "I'll do it."

"Are you sure?" Wraith's voice was quiet, cautious. "Once you're free you can't come back to this. Everything you know now, it is all going to be different once you're out. _You_ will be different…you'll have to learn to live again."

The young man nodded. "I'll do it," he repeated. "I don't have anything to gain here. I want something to live for…something to fight for. I'll do it."

"You've made the right decision." The blonde opened the case and extracted a large red pill. "Swallow this." He handed the pill and glass of water to the person before him. When he sensed slight hesitation, he said, "It's harmless. We're going to use it to trace your location so we can get you out."

Ruhk raised his eyes to Wraith's face. Ignoring the questions flaring in his mind, he took the pill and put it in his mouth. It was cool and smooth, and easy to swallow with the water. "Now what?"

"You come with me."

xxxxx

The car ride was short. Ruhk sat in the back with the young woman, probably still a teenager, while Banshee and Wraith talked quietly in the front. He couldn't hear what was said. The vehicle stopped outside another warehouse, this one just as dilapidated as the last. Banshee opened his door and waited for him to get out. She gave him a small smile of encouragement.

"Everything will be okay," she whispered so only he could hear.

The small group led him inside and bolted the door behind them. The room was small, and minimal space was left around what looked to be an old dentist chair and a large bank of computers. A black phone sat easily on an antiqued stand. The young woman led the newly annointed Ruhk to the strange chair and helped him lean back.

"Close your eyes," Wraith instructed, walking over to where Banshee stood at the computers. "It will all be over soon. Do we have a signal?"

Banshee nodded. "He's right there."

The man pulled a phone from his pocket and spoke to the person on the other end. "We're ready, Mace. Let's get him out."

Ruhk closed his eyes and waited for God only knew what. Before he could even open his mouth to ask what was going to happen, his world went black as consciousness was jerked from his body.


	2. Liberation

**Now for the next chapter. I don't have much time at home to write, so I give up my lunch period at school to use the computer in one of my classes…which means that chapters may be kinda slow in coming. Sorry in advance. ;)**

**Once again, this is dedicated in its entirety to my friend, Centress. My savior…and Queen of the One of Toads. :P**

**xxxxx**

_**The Calling**_

**_Chapter 2: Liberation_**

The first thing Ruhk noticed as he came to was an intense cold. His entire body was trembling and twitching with it, chill bumps on every inch of skin. Rough fabric brushed against his legs and chest. He cracked open his eyes and bright light flooded his vision; he could just barely make out a silhouette outlined above him.

"Where am I?" he croaked, surprised at the hoarseness of his words.

"Shh…it's all right. You're safe now." Banshee's soothing voice reached his ears, calming the faint sense of panic. "You've been out for a while, you know. We were all pretty worried about you."

"How long?" Even that short sentence took an effort to get out.

"Three, maybe four days." The woman sighed. "I'm glad to see you awake. Would you like me to help you to your room? It's much less bright in there."

Ruhk nodded at her question, quelling the rise of many of his own. _There will be plenty of time for that later._

As though she could read his thoughts, Banshee said, "Wraith will probably want to talk to you later, but he's attending to a little accident Puca had in the Core." She shook her head. "That girl is so clumsy."

"Core?" _Such fun, these one and two word questions_.

"It's on the upper level. We'll show you around later, once we've given you an explanation or two." She helped him sit up and wrapped an arm around his thin waist. "Come on, your room is just down the hall."

Ruhk leaned heavily against her as he put weight on shaky legs. "Why am I so weak?"

"Your muscles haven't completely formed yet…just give it a few more days." She gave him an encouraging smile. "Mace did a wonderful job on your reconstruction."

"Who's Puca?" The floor was startlingly cold beneath his bare feet.

"You'll meet her later." Banshee secured an arm across his lower back and took his hand into hers. "Easy does it," she whispered. "This way."

She helped give him balance as she led Ruhk out of the room he had been in – a medical bay of some sort – and out into a long, twisting metal corridor. They walked slowly down the hall, past many doors until they finally stopped before one of them. She reached out and twisted the wheel. The door swung open and she brought him inside.

"Here we are," she said enthusiastically. "Your own private quarters."

"Oh, the rapture," Ruhk muttered, raising an eyebrow. "I'm confused… What is this place? How did I get here?"

The smile faded from Banshee's lips. "Do you not remember what happened after you were in that room, back in your old town?"

He shook his head, closing his eyes against an oncoming headache. _All of that had to have been a dream, right? _"I'm sorry, but no."

"Well, there will be plenty of time for that later," she said in way of explanation, echoing his earlier thought. "Why don't you lie down?"

As Ruhk nodded, she helped him recline back onto the cot against the far wall. She ran a comforting hand across his forehead. "I'm going to go get some water. Now that we've removed the IV, you're going to have to drink it all yourself." She gave him yet another smile. "Not to worry. You're in good hands here."

He watched with weary eyes as she left the dank room, closing the door behind her. _Everything here is made of metal, _he noticed. _But _where_ is here? What's happened to me?_ He ran a bony hand across his head…only to be met with bald skin instead of thick black hair. _What happened to my hair? Oh, why my _hair?

Ruhk glanced down at his body. He was much thinner than he had thought and his skin was almost white, unhealthily so. On instinct, he reached up to tug at the small hoop in his earlobe, only to find it gone. He reached up to touch his face and found all his other piercings were gone as well. The strangest thing of all, though, was what he noticed as the sleeve of his shirt slid down. A round, black plug of some sort – made of metal – was embedded in his arm. He touched it gently, nudging it a bit with his finger, but it didn't budge. _What the hell…?_

Just as his eyebrows furrowed together the door opened again and Banshee let herself in. She was holding out a cup of water, but Ruhk didn't take it.

"What's this?" he demanded, thrusting out his arm.

"Calm down," Banshee said, not put off by his question. "You know what you've heard or read about the Matrix, right? About how you were 'plugged in' to it?"

"Yeah." He looked at her, meeting her green eyes with his own blue ones.

"Well, that was one of the plugs holding you in." She traced its outline on his arm with a long finger. "There are more, all over your body. And one on the back of your neck. You'll get used to it, I'm sure."

Ruhk just sighed and relaxed into the mattress. "It really was true, then? About the entire human race being slaves to machines?"

Banshee nodded, nudging his hand with the container of water. "Drink," she told him softly. "Answers are coming."

He took the water and sipped. It was cool and vaguely metallic. He wondered if everything here had something to do with metal. "It makes sense, you know," he said as he held the cup against his lips, "that we were slaves. So I've been unplugged. Interesting. It's kind of relieving, actually. Liberating."

She smiled at his rush of words. A true menace to society, according to those who knew him from clubs. "You should sleep now." Ruhk put up no protest as she pulled a blanket out of a cabinet in the wall and handed it to him. "Wraith will probably come to talk to you later today. I'm sorry he's been so busy. We're still recuperating from the last blow in this damn war, and there are a good amount of damages that need repairing."

"It's all right." He smiled up at her. "I'm not exactly what you thought, huh? Not a computer geek, right?"

"No," she agreed, "but you're exactly what we're looking for. Close your eyes and get some rest, okay?" She turned to leave, but was stopped by one last question from her newest crewmate.

"Will my hair grow back?"

Banshee laughed. "Yes, Ruhk, your hair will grow back…in its natural color, mind you."

"Black _is_ my natural color," he snapped, glaring up at her. "Why does everyone think I dyed it?"

She grinned. "Probably because a Goth with _natural_ black hair is too abnormal for words. But here…" She reached back and pulled at the square of fabric that was holding up her dirty red hair in a bun. She shook it out and wrapped the small bandanna over his head. "It'll keep you warm. Sleep well, my friend."

xxxxx

Later that day, Ruhk was awakened by a soft knocking at his door. Before he could call out for the person to enter, Wraith came in and closed the door behind him. He looked much the same here as he had before, though his clothes were much rattier, like the ones he had seen on Banshee.

"How are you doing?" Wraith asked, pulling the chair away from the desk and sitting beside him.

"Tired," Ruhk said, yawning. "And confused."

The older man gave him a thin smile. "Banshee tells me that you didn't start panicking when you found your plugs."

"No," he agreed. "It didn't bother me. But what happened? How did I get here?"

Wraith sighed. "You were freed from the Matrix. That dream you've been having, the one where you wake up in a gel-filled pod surrounded by machines…that was real – the real world as it is today."

"My dream really happened?"

A brief nod was the answer. "It's happened to us all, save those born into the real world. Born in Zion."

"Zion…" Ruhk pursed his lips. "I take it that would be a city?"

"A city indeed. The last one left." Wraith grinned, revealing his age through the deep lines around his eyes. "We'll be heading in soon enough. Now…" He stood and slid the chair back toward the desk. "Would you like to see your new home?"

xxxxx

The next few days blurred together. The information that he learned from the crew stuck, and it seemed that now his life finally made sense. All the Internet talk he had heard of the Matrix was true, and he was thrilled. He now had proof that humans really were too intelligent for their own good, and it had caused their downfall…their slavery. Just the thing he wished he could rub in Hippo's face.

"Is this everything you'd though it would be?" Banshee asked him one morning in the mess hall. "This new life you have…is it really any better than what you had before?"

Ruhk regarded her question for a moment before answering. "Well, honestly I don't know. I think, though, that I can be happy here. It's gotta be better than what I had. I mean, do you even know how I lived? It was disgusting."

"So I've seen." She smirked before taking a bite of the white goo in front of her. "The captain told me that he's going to send you through a practice sim today. Are you excited?"

He shrugged. "If it's anything like having those…skills uploaded straight to my brain, then maybe. I like manipulating things. That's pretty much what I have to learn to do, right? Manipulate things?"

"Yes, it's very much simply learning how to manipulate things." Banshee laughed but was cut off from saying anything more when Mace – a large bulk of a man with a generally good attitude came into the small hall and filled a tin with the goo.

The operator sat beside Banshee, across from Ruhk. He leaned forward, a large grin on his face. "How are ya doin' there, my boy? Sleep well?"

The younger man nodded. "I slept better last night than I have in years."

"Glad to hear it!" He turned toward the woman beside him. "Wraith wants to see you in the cockpit. Something about Zion, I hope."

Banshee smiled kindly at him. "Thanks for relaying the message." She stood and emptied the half-full contents of the tin in a disposal before rising it and leaving the room. Ruhk looked after her as she turned the corner.

"So," Mace cleared his throat, bringing attention back him. "I still wanna know. Pardon any offences, but how did a person like you get here?" He shook his head. "You have the most minimal hacking skills I've ever seen."

Ruhk gave a small grin and looked down at the table, letting his spoon drop into the small container. "I actually don't know. I…I do know that I'm looking for someone, but I don't know enough about her now to do anything more about it."

"Well, start with his name. Who is he?"

"Her," the younger man corrected. He sighed. "All I know is that her name is – or was, I guess – Adele. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen…although she was only seventeen when I met her. Then she just disappeared."

Mace regarded his carefully. "Do you think this young woman is here? Not just…sunk under your radar? Some people are good at hiding."

"I know…I used to be one of them." Ruhk heaved another sigh.

"What does she look like? Perhaps I may have seen her." The operator shrugged his large shoulders. "I used to help train at the Academy."

"The Academy?" The spoon clanked nosily against the bottom of the tin.

"It's where the younger unplugged go…you know, eighteen or younger." Mace took a sip of water. "I helped get them through the more advanced courses. I'm a bit older than I look." He chuckled at his own jab. "Now, about this girl. What does she look like?"

"Well, she's pretty tall…maybe about my height." He bit his lip, pulling up the image in his mind. "Dark hair, shoulder length when I last saw her. Pale complexion, blue eyes. Ring any bells?"

The older man pursed his lips. "A lot of young woman pass through on different ships, and many, many more through Zion. I'm sorry…I may know who you're talking about, but I don't remember her name." He lowered his eyes, the wrinkles in his forehead smoothing slightly. "She came through about five years ago. Quite an attitude. Good at just about everything."

Ruhk smirked. "Sounds like Adele. I, um…used to have a picture of her. It was in my pocket when I…that night I met Wraith. It's gone, isn't it?"

Mace reached across the table and patted his arm. "If it's any consolation, it never really existed to begin with."

xxxxx

"So…now I just apply what I know, right?" Ruhk looked around the sim he had just been loaded into. It was dark, like the alleys of the city he used to live in. All around tall brick buildings rose into the inky sky. He could just barely see the tops of them.

"Exactly," Wraith's voice said from above. "Now, once you get going I can't help you. You'll be on your own. Got it?"

The young man nodded and ran his hand through his hair, happy to have it back even if it wasn't real. "What do I have to do?"

"Reach the edge of the city. You'll know it when you get there." A muffled cough broke his words. "You're going to be timed. Since this is the easiest level, all you have to do is reach the end without being noticed by the cops that have been programmed randomly throughout the city. Any questions?"

"Yeah, um…" Ruhk took a deep breath. "What happens if they see me?"

"Run, and hope they don't shoot." Wraith turned off the intercom, leaving Ruhk alone in the dank darkness.

"Right," he said to himself. "The edge. Which way do I go?" He glanced around, looking down the various roads. All of them were empty, adding to the eerie silence that could be felt all around. His feet started him going left, so that's what he went with. He took an easy pace. Wraith had told him earlier that even though this was timed, there was no limit. The times were saved for him to try to beat later.

The buildings loomed up in black monoliths around him. The darkness was all-encompassing, and Ruhk could see nothing more than three feet in front of him. Tension was thick, and if he didn't know better, he'd say that the simulation was real. That was one thing he'd never really get used to.

xxx

Wraith watched the monitor in the Core as his new charge wound his way through the labyrinth city. He was doing all right so far. No trouble yet. Then…there!

A program shuddered and came to life, bearing the form of a cop. It blinked twice and tightened its fingers around the gun that had formed in its hand, taking a step forward as the surroundings changed slightly to accommodate the new diversion in power.

From what the captain was watching, Ruhk had yet to notice the approaching threat. _All for the better, I guess, _he thought. _Good to see how he reacts under pressure._ He smirked, watching the fuzzy picture before him from the Construct's current form.

xxx

The streets were still silent, nothing to be heard except Ruhk's feet slapping the wet pavement. A streetlamp to his right sputtered and extinguished. He startled and spun around, his hand instantly flexing around the metal gun he didn't even realize he had.

Ruhk took a deep breath and turned back to the direction he was going in. _It's just nerves,_ he told himself. As he continued on his way, he failed to catch the movement close behind.

xxx

"How's he doing?" Mace asked, coming to stand quietly behind his superior.

"Look for yourself." Wraith gestured to the screen. "He hasn't noticed any danger. We're probably going to have to teach him to trust his instincts more. See his heart rate? He knows something is there, he just isn't trusting that judgment."

Mace whistled quietly through his teeth. "That's how we lost our last two, isn't it? Not trusting their instincts?"

The blonde nodded slowly. "He'll learn."

"He has to."

The two watched in silence as the cop reprogrammed itself as an agent. That's what happened with this program if the person inside didn't eliminate the threat quickly enough. It only got worse.

xxx

_Okay, I definitely heard something,_ Ruhk thought, his eyes going wide as he stared forward. He switched off the safety catch and raised the gun, turning to look behind.

_There!_ Movement to the left. Then again on the right. His finger tightened convulsively on the trigger, but he restrained himself from firing. And then he saw them. Two agents.

"Damn."

He turned and ran, his heart pounding in his ears. _Damn, damn, damn!_

Then a loud bang echoed though the alley and Ruhk felt a sharp pain between his shoulder blades before his world faded to white.

xxx

Mace went over to pull the plug from Ruhk's head. "Almost," he said quietly as the younger man opened his eyes.

Ruhk sat up and saw Wraith still standing by the monitors. "That was pretty bad, huh?"

"No, not bad." The captain chuckled. "You need to trust your instincts, Ruhk! If you feel that something is wrong, then there's probably something wrong. Listen to what your body tells you."

Mace went back to glance at the memory saved on the Construct's screen. "From how your signals were reading when you were inside, you were nervous. Am I right?"

The youngest man nodded, looking between the operator and Wraith.

"Well," Mace continued, "the first time through any sim is nerve-wracking, and it will be much worse when you plug into the matrix. I've watched enough people while they were inside your age, younger, older – to know that any nervousness is good. It teaches you respect for the enemy. Once you get used to it is when you'll be in the most danger. Always listen to your gut, man! Not tuning in to those instincts _will_ cost you your life."

Ruhk's eyes widened and he quickly looked away. He had never thought the kind old man he had eaten breakfast with would ever have such a complete change in attitude. He stored this new bit of information in the back of his mind to be sure not to cross this guy on a bad day.

The captain and operator sent their newest charge through the same simulation at least ten more times before Wraith finally sent him off to lie down. As the young man stumbled wearily down the ladder, Mace whispered, "Isn't that Banshee's bandanna?"

xxxxx

Ruhk was just dozing off when there was a timid knock at his door. He cracked his eyes and gave the okay for the person outside to come in.

Puca opened the red metal barricade and poked her head inside. She was young, just barely fifteen it seemed, with choppy dirty blonde hair and dull brown eyes. A sweet girl, but clumsy as a person her age could be.

"Did I bother you? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you. I'll just leave now; it was terribly rude of me to bother you." Her words were rushed, and her high-pitched voice made it even harder to understand what she was saying. From the few conversations he'd had with her, he found that she had the tendency to repeat words…and apologize for everything.

As she was about to leave again, Ruhk called out to her. "No, it's okay. Come in."

Puca raised her brows and her eyes went wide, showing just how innocent she was. "You were sleeping. Really, I'll just go and let you get back to sleep."

"No, if you want something, just ask." She reminded him so much of his sister. Janie had died when they were just eight years old. Murdered.

"I um…I just wanted to talk." She paused, and from the look on her face she was probably about to break out another apology.

"Come in, honey, really. I don't mind talking." Ruhk could have slapped his hand over his mouth. Had he just called her 'honey'?

Puca shuffled inside and pushed the door closed. She pursed her lips as Ruhk sat up and made room for her to sit beside him. If she wished, of course. But she trusted him. There was just something about him that was calming to her. Something comfortable. She plopped down on the hard mattress and slumped forward.

Ruhk studied her, again reminded of his sister. She seemed so…worn.Only fifteen and already prepared to die. "Are you okay?"

Her brown eyes looked up at him, unsure of what to say. "I…" she trailed off, averting her gaze. "I don't know. How old are you?"

He cleared his throat, not expecting such a…_normal_ question. "Twenty five. Why do you ask?"

Puca shrugged. "You look familiar. I grew up in the city you were living in. Maybe I just saw you sometime."

"I _have_ been living there for five years, so it's a possibility." He gave her as nice a smile as he could manage.

"Five years?" She shook her head. "Then I never saw you there. I was unplugged seven years ago." She was silent for a moment before speaking again. "I heard you talking to Mace this morning, about that girl. Would she be twenty five also?"

"Twenty three, actually." A slight blush rose in his cheeks. "I was held back a year or two in high school."

"I never went to school," Puca whispered. "Count yourself lucky. But anyway, I think I may know who you're talking about. I don't remember her name, but she was coming into the Academy just as I was leaving. She was pretty quiet. I had the same dinner time as she did, and she always sat alone. I'd recognize her if I saw her."

"But she's so much older than you… How could you have been leaving when she was entering?" Ruhk's eyebrows narrowed. Somehow he knew that he was not going to like this child's story.

"I was freed young. Eight years old, I think. Your friend was freed in the normal age bracket. Seventeen…eighteen, maybe." She refused to meet his eyes. "But Wraith wanted me because I was small enough to crawl through the ducts and stuff on his ship at the time. The _Griffin_, though," she gestured around her. "She's pretty new."

"So you've been with Wraith for a while, then?"

"And Banshee. I was there when he asked her to be his second. They're my family. So it's kinda like you're my brother, huh?" She cocked one of her large eyebrows playfully, showing once again just how youthful she was.

Ruhk was silent, thinking about what she had said. He was hit with a sudden pang of nostalgia, wishing to be eight years old again with his sister in the park, crawling all over the rusty jungle gym behind their family's apartment.

"Puca…" He looked at her, watched as she fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. "Do you fight?"

She shrugged her thin shoulders again. "When I have to. But this crew is mostly out for reconnaissance. None of us do much fighting. Before she was unplugged, Banshee was a big advocate for nonviolence." She giggled softly. "She still doesn't like to fire a gun."

"Reconnaissance? So you all just gather information?"

Puca nodded. "It's dangerous, though. The machines kill to keep us quiet. I've seen so many people come and go on this ship…seen them die." She gave him a ghost of a smile. "You never really get used to it, no matter what anyone says."

Ruhk shook his head, blown away by this young girl. _How can she see such hell every day and keep going?_ He put an arm across her shoulders and grinned down at her. "I think you and I are going to be pretty good friends."

"I'm glad." She raised her wide eyes to meet his. "Can I call you my brother?"

"Only if I can claim you as my sister."


End file.
